I grew up on Kaua`i.
My two early pleasures--reading and thumb-sucking. We were living in that van, but Mom always knew how to make wherever we were look beautiful.
You probably don't appreciate what a statement that is, but Kauai is a place of extremes. Extreme beauty. Extreme isolation. Extreme weather. Extreme attitudes.
It's a very small place–when I was a kid, stable population of less than 35,000 and very few tourists. My parents were hippies, doing the dropout surfer lifestyle, and we were a part of the few rugged haoles (white people) who really embedded themselves in the community.
There was no TV. There was no internet. There were no phones. We moved a lot, within the small communities of the North Shore, back and forth from rentals to van to tents.
But there were books. And my college-educated parents read to us. I was an early and avid reader, and our weekly drive into Town (Kapa`a) with it's multiple pleasures of the Kapa`a Bakery, Laundromat, and Library were the highlight of our week. Nothing made me happier than sitting in the car outside the laundromat while our clothes washed, eating malasadas (Portuguese donuts) and reading a fresh book. (Oh hey, those are still some of my happiest moments–and having achieved a level of success that I can wash clothes at my own house is still something I appreciate!)
I read everything in the kid's side of the library by the time I was ten. I had to move to the adult and nonfiction side because a life without reading, on Kaua`i, was just not worth living. (Hence the early exposure to Jackie Collins referred to in my Avoiding the Turgid Pole post).
I have some theories about brain development, creativity and play… Because in hindsight, my freewheeling childhood, unsupervised a good deal of the time, running amok in nature, and reading for pleasure, was the perfect set-up for the lurid imaginings I engage in now as a writer.
I'm going back to Kaua`i next week. So excited. Only, it's been flooding.
How Hanalei Valley usually looks--and how it looks this week. (bottom photo by N. Teixeira)
I included Hanalei Valley's annual flood in Torch Ginger, the sequel to Blood Orchids. Without too much of a spoiler, Lei lives on the Hanalei River in one of the little taro shacks, and the flood washes up an important piece of evidence–a hand sawed off a body–on the beach, which she has to brave the flood to retrieve.
This scenario sounds very exotic. But people, this is Kaua`i. It's a place where strange things happen and are a new sort of norm. I'm looking forward to my vacation next week–in a cottage on the Hanalei River. And I really, really hope it's gone down by then and I don't come across any body parts.
Even drowned pigs are pretty unpleasant.
How have the places you grew up in influenced your pleasures in life, and your choices?
Lovely picture at the top, Toby. I know how devastating the rain can be. Having been exposed to books so early, it’s no wonder that you write.
THanks Joy, you can relate with Puerto Rico’s beauty.
Your little sisters were playing on the beach at the river mouth after a flood, and they found a bowl shaped thing that they made into a Barbie bath. When they tried to bring it home, upon closer examination, I realized it was part of a skull. So we drove up to the nearby police station, and showed it to the officer on duty. He got all nervous, and told us to take it back, and throw it back into the river. I objected, saying maybe it was evidence. His answer, “We like only fresh kind”. His nervousness: the local attitudes towards ancient bones. All this to say that your washed up body part is totally possible!
How do you think I got the idea? Somewhere in my mind I remembered that story! And the police response to it.
Sounds fabulous. And believe me, I live in Australia – we know all about extremes. Influenced my choices? Well, one things for sure – I’m careful where I buy a house. Not too close to a river, or a forest. Flood and fire? Yep.
I like the house location choice wisdom!
Loved reading about your alternative lifestyle childhood….it helped shape you into the wonderful author you are today. Hate to see that kind of flooding…not good anywhere.
Working on a memoir, Donna! Thanks for popping in!
By the way, Happy Woman’s Day!
I will run the skull tale by Anita. I haven’t heard that before……I am a lover of gallows humor
And Peter, thanks for scanning the photo in and giving it new life! It was such a treat to see!
I love your memories of childhood; that’s exactly what I’m trying to achieve in adulthood. I had no boundaries either as a child, but lived in an industrial town. I had to work hard at finding nature to be able to embrace it. Now I live in rural Ireland, in a mobile home, writing full time – living exactly the way I’ve always wanted too but still trying to break those chains of time/expectation etc. Chains I put on myself, may I add. I love that you’ve embraced the opportunities you were given and have made it feed into your life now. Enjoy your trip home.
Your mom was so gorgeous! And what a doll you were. So much of your childhood must have been idyllic and unique despite being tough at times. I love how you’ve worked so much of your own experiences into your fiction–and how you seem to have an infinite well of ideas to draw upon. Have a wonderful retreat, Toby!
My summers on the Eastern Shore of Maryland have stayed with me all these decades. I learned to swim, ride a two wheeler, sail a boat, and even let bees swarm over my arm. All these experiences were rites of passage. Attitudes came from being aware that my aunt and uncle treated their African American help differently, but I also respected the life of a farm even if it was a “gentlemanʻs farm”. I learned about growing alfalfa, milking cows, raising a calf for show, weeding the flower garden, feeding the chickens, de-ticking the Chesapeake retrievers, and much much more. Those were idyllic summers in the mid-40s to the mid-50ʻs. There was the admonishment that the cellar was off limits because there were snakes there. Right! Uh! Huh!. I never went into the cellar. A few years ago, I learned that the stories were true, and not just a way to keep the kids out of the cellar! A magical time and place!!!